Landfall in Kansas
by 332249
Summary: Remember the time when Lady Toni blasted Castiel out of the Bunker at the end of season 11? Yeah? What if he landed in Smallville?
1. Smallville

She wasn't sure when it became a habit. Maybe when she first started to compile her Wall of Weird, maybe when she realized most of her Wall could be directly attributed to the meteor shower from over a decade ago. Okay, it was probably when her best friend Clark Kent finally admitted that he was an honest-to-God _alien from outer space_ that Chloe Sullivan had made it a personal habit to keep one eye on the stars.

So Chloe Sullivan saw the meteor in all of its bright, white, glowing glory as it fell and then slammed into the ground just outside of Smallville, Kansas. Her right hand dove into her purse for the cellular phone even as she maneuvered her car to a stop along the side of the road. A safe few dozen feet of space separated her from the newly formed crater.

"Clark! Get to Peterson's Field, quick! But be careful, something just fell out of the sky!" Chloe jabbed the disconnect button before Clark could get a word out. (The words would be something along the lines of 'stay back' and 'wait for me' which she wouldn't listen to anyway.) Besides, she'd discovered a long time ago that the less she said about the situation the faster her friend would come running. Was it shameless to play on his overdeveloped hero complex? Yes, of course. Would she stop? Nope.

Carefully, she climbed out of the relative safety of the car.

A low groan of discomfort echoed from the crater: the sound of a quarterback shaking off a particularly hard tackle. There was also some muttered complaint, judging from the tone, but she didn't recognize the language. So, not just a meteor; meteors don't get hurt.

So. Meteor Freak or another Kryptonian? Chloe dug in her purse again for the little lead box and the even smaller green rock inside that. She wouldn't open it yet because Clark would be coming, but she felt a lot better with something on hand to defend herself with. Just in case.

"I wish people would stop doing that," a gravelly voice grumbled softly to himself.

Chloe could hear fabric rustling and dirt clods crumbling as the owner of the voice began to work his way out of the crater.

A gust of wind ruffled her short blond hair: Clark had arrived.

"Chloe?"

She pointed at the crater and the being climbing his way out of it. He looked normal enough: human appearance, middle-aged, black hair, blue eyes. His clothes were earth standard: a cheap suit, tie, and trench-coat. Nothing screamed dangerous at first glance, except for the fact that he had fallen out of the sky.

The newcomer brushed dirt and dust off of himself for a moment before he acknowledged his audience. "Where am I?" he demanded, a rumble of anger threaded through his words.

"Earth," Clark offered cautiously, not wanting to upset him more.

The man rolled his eyes and shook his head, as though he could not believe the stupid answers he was forced to deal with.

Chloe took mild offense. It was a perfectly valid answer when someone fell out of the sky hard enough to gouge a ten foot deep hole.

The man glared at Clark and opened his mouth... only to stop and snap it shut again. Icy blue eyes stared and studied Clark. They flicked to Chloe, then back. His head cocked sideways. "You. Are not human," he announced.

Both friends' mouth fell open in surprise. He could tell that just by looking at the Kryptonian?

"I- uh-" Clark stammered, at a loss for words.

The stranger shook his head. "Never mind. I do not have time for this. How far away is Lebanon, Kansas?"

"A little over three hours north of here," Chloe stuttered her answer on auto-pilot.

"Thank you," the man moved to walk past her and pointed himself at her red Volkswagon still idling behind them. "I need to borrow your car."

"Whoa, whoa!" Chloe cried, snapping out of her stupor, and placed herself bodily between him and her Bug. "Borrowing without waiting for permission is called 'stealing.' And you are not stealing my car!"

"I am sorry," the man told her, sounding honestly apologetic. Then he gently lifted her off of her feet and deposited her back on the ground three feet to his right. "But I am in a hurry."

He turned back to the car.

Clark Kent landed a heavy hand on the smaller man's shoulder. "Who are you? What are you?"

The man tried to tug himself out from under Clark's grip. To his surprise, Clark had to extend real effort to keep him there.

Surprise showed clearly on the stranger's face as well. But the expression quickly morphed into one of annoyance. "I do not have time for this," he grumbled. The man reached up to Clark's forehead with two fingers, just two fingers. But then his eyes seemed to glow an intense blue for a moment, noticeable only because it was so dark out.

Clark collapsed into a boneless heap.

"Clark!" Chloe screamed, dropping to her knees next to her downed friend.

"That was harder than it should have been," the man muttered to himself. To Chloe he continued, "He is not injured. He will sleep for several hours and wake unusually well-rested." Then he stepped past them both towards the car.

Chloe did not car about the damn car any more. "Oh, god, Clark. Do I check for a pulse in the same spot or what?" Kryptonians _do_ have a pulse, she discovered shortly. Clark's was steady and his breathing was even.

She looked up in time to see her own taillights leaving them behind in an empty field.

Chloe scowled. "Lebanon, huh?"


	2. Lebanon

Chloe and Clark canvassed the entire town of Lebanon. Granted, the town wasn't that big, so that wasn't saying much. Still. Armed with a police-artist style sketch of Trenchcoat, the two reporters asked everyone they could find to ask if anybody recognized their carjacker. Surely, someone in a town not much bigger than Smallville, someone knew something.

Nope. Nada. Nothing but blank looks and careless shrugs. They didn't even get the occasional shifty look, like they knew something but wouldn't say out of loyalty or fear. No one knew anything about Mr. Trenchcoat.

Chloe was willing to stick it out and turn over every single rock in order to satisfy her curiosity. Although she got the feeling Clark was more or less done with the mystery, he was too much of a gentlemen to leave her alone in a strange town looking for a dangerous stranger. In case she actually found the man who was as strong as a Kryptonian and had magical fingers.

But even Chloe was ready to give up after four days of fruitless work when they finally caught a break: her car. The Volkswagon sat neatly parked in front of the local police station.

She didn't hesitate. "Hi!" she chirped at the officer behind the front desk. "That's my car out front, the red Volkswagon. It was stolen from Smallville four days ago."

The officer, an older man with more salt than pepper, stared at her for a moment before shrugging. "That was fast. Did Ernie get off his lazy ass last night and make the call? He coulda left a memo so I wouldn't bother doing the same work twice. Oh, well. Must have been a slow night. We usually wait until morning when the Car Fairy leaves us a new one."

Clark blinked, certain he had heard that wrong. "Car... Fairy?"

"Yeah." The officer started to rummage around under the front desk. "I know, we really need to come up with a better name for the guys."

"Probably," Chloe agreed. "Car Fairy lacks... panache. Why do you call him- them? -that?"

"Whelp... no one sees who ever does it. But there's a guy who must live around here somewhere known for borrowing cars right and left without permission. Usually from the locals hereabouts, but every now and then we get us one from out of town. For the lack of a better name, we started calling him the Car Fairy."

The officer dropped some paperwork on the desk between them. "Well, let's get this processed. Can I see your ID?"

Dutifully, Chloe handed over her driver's license and car title that she'd brought with her.

"Looks like everything matches," he noted absently as he filled in some blanks on his forms. "Okey Dokey." He handed Chloe a handwritten note, the receipt from a local mechanic's shop, and her keys.

Curious and a little bewildered, Chloe read the note first:

 _Sorry about the unauthorized borrowing. And thanks for your the assist. I couldn't help but notice that you were overdue for an oil change. And it felt like your ball-bearings needed to be repacked. Don't worry Barry took good care of it. On me._ It was signed with a blocky "D."

"Barry's the town mechanic," the officer explained. "He said the Car Fairy left him enough cash, he went ahead and changed your brake pads while he had all the wheels off. The tank is full, so you should be good to go whenever you're ready."

"Does this 'Car Fairy' usually pay for repairs on whatever he steals?" Clark asked while reading through the neatly itemized repair receipt.

"About fifty/fifty," the officer admitted. "He almost always leaves them with a full tank of gas. He chuckled. "There's a young fella around here, Leo, who leaves his car unlocked with the keys in the ignition hoping that the Car Fairy will borrow it. For the free gas. And maybe the complimentary repair. Hasn't happened yet, but the boy can hope."

Chloe blinked as she processed. "That's a little bizarre... and really practical.

The officer chuckled. "That describes Lebanon pretty well."

"Frank!" a voice down the hallway called. "Don't forget to ask 'em if they want to press charges this time!"

"Right, right," Frank grumbled. "I tell you. Skip procedure once and they never let you live it down." Then he straightened and put on a more auspicious tone. "Even though your stolen property has been returned to you, you still have the right to press charges if you are so inclined."

"Yes. Yes, I am so inclined," Chloe pounced. "I want to press charges, and I want to talk to this guy. Where is he?"

Frank shrugged. "No one knows for sure. No one's ever seen him do it."

Chloe slapped down her sketch of Mr. Trenchcoat. "This guy. Thus is the guy who stole my car. I won't press charges if I can talk to him first, but I want to talk to him. Who is he and where can I find him?"

Frank stared at the police sketch curiously. "You _saw_ him do it? Really?"

"Yes!" Chloe exclaimed. "He attacked Clark."

"Huh," Frank grunted then shook his head. "Don't know him."

The other officer wandered up front. "Isn't that the weird guy that rides around with the mystery brothers sometimes?"

Frank looked up, trying to picture the man in his mind's eye. "Maybe."

"Mystery brothers?" Chloe prompted.

"Yeah. A pair of brothers moved to town a few years ago. At least we think so. No one actually knows where they live or how often they actually stay around. No one's even proven it, but everyone thinks they own the old power plant down Route FF. The brothers come into town every few weeks for groceries and what not. The stockier fella makes it out to the bar now and again, never causes problems though. Usually, their pretty quiet."

"Do these brothers have names?" Chloe demanded.

Both officers shrugged their lack of knowledge. "Like I said. Quiet fellas. We've never had problems with them."

Chloe gave Clark a significant look, reporter's instinct alarms and hero's instinct alarms were going off in both of their heads.

"Miss Sullivan?" Frank's face grew somber and pensive. "You got your car back better than when you lost it. You might consider letting this whole thing drop and going home."

"Why would I do that?" she asked, mostly to see what he'd answer.

"Those brothers are quiet enough neighbors," Frank began slowly, trying to find the words. "But there are a lot of rumors about that power plant, going back decades. Old superstitions and urban legends, mostly. All of 'em are... unsettling if even a piece of it is true." He took a deep breath and blew it out. "I can tell you mean to get answers, and I can't stop you from trying, but please be careful. Really think about if its worth it."

Chloe smiled tightly. "Oh, I think it will be worth it."


End file.
